


Making the Team

by sekaiseifuku



Category: Saiyuki
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, Shower Sex, Sports, Swimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-15
Updated: 2011-04-15
Packaged: 2017-10-18 03:32:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/184527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sekaiseifuku/pseuds/sekaiseifuku
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gojyo is distracted by the newest member of their relay team.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Making the Team

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Despina](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Despina/gifts).



> Written as a gift for despina_moon for the 2010 yuletide_smut exchange.
> 
> Thanks to the wonderful and lovely genkisakka for getting out her typo gun - it was needed! Still, I made changes after she saw it, so blame any errors on me!

Gojyo cursed to himself as he hit the water.

Late on the start _again_.

His hands slammed into the water, grabbing and shoving it behind him as his feet beat a steady rhythm behind him. As he approached the end of the lane for his turn, he imagined the wall was a trampoline propelling him forward. He didn’t know if any of this positive visualization shit actually worked, but Hakkai swore by it and he’d be damned if he was going to try to argue with Professor Cho about anything. Particularly with the recent decline in his own performance.

 _I need to get a fucking grip._

The burn in his quads began to intensify and, as he passed the 75 meter mark, his lungs began to scream for air. He knew better than to take a breath at this point; it would only slow him down and he’d be damned if he’d give his teammates anything else to get pissed at him for.

He hit the wall with an enormous splash, launching himself up to take a lungful of air. The timer high on the wall above the pool told him everything he needed to know. They were still a full second slower than four weeks ago and Gojyo didn’t need to see his split to know it was entirely his fault.

“Goddamn it, Gojyo – while you’re standing around on the blocks with your thumb up your ass, Dokugakuji’s going to be halfway down the motherfucking lane!” Sanzo’s face was that unattractive shade of crimson it turned when he was about to throw a hissy fit. “If we lose to that asshole Kougaiji and his idiot lackeys, I’m going to kill you!”

Gods above, even Hakkai looked pissed. Anyone else would have described him as “displeased” or perhaps “mildly annoyed,” but Gojyo had lived with him long enough to know the tightness around his eyes and pursed lips signaled something much darker than annoyance. For all his mild-mannered human act, Hakkai could be one scary motherfucker.

“Gojyo, Sanzo’s right. You are almost two seconds slower than you should be and you’re losing it all in the start.”

Two seconds? Gojyo glanced back at the timer and there it was, plain as day: split 4, 52.35.

“Fuck.” He hadn’t seen that time – even in practice – since high school.

“Fuck?!? That’s all you can say?” If Sanzo had had anything larger than a pair of goggles to throw at him, Gojyo would have been in trouble. “Gojyo, you need to get your shit together. _Now_.”

Sanzo was right. Gojyo could admit that because that’s exactly what he’d been telling himself for the past two weeks. He needed to get his fucking shit together.

“Hey, um ... we can practice the exchange if you want.” Goku grinned. “I ain’t tired.”

Yeah, that’s just what he needed. More of the fucking monkey and his perfect fucking form. As if that weren’t the root of his entire problem.

“Goku, that won’t be necessary—you’re finished. Gojyo will remain behind to work independently.”

Gojyo sent a silent prayer of thanks to whatever gods were listening. Coach may have been a cold-blooded, slave-driving asshole, but he occasionally redeemed himself.

“Sanzo, Hakkai, thank you as well for your work today.” The silver-haired man bowed slightly in dismissal. “We’ll start tomorrow at 5am.”

The three team members started for the locker room as Gojyo pulled himself out of the water. “Coach, look …” He wanted to offer up some kind of excuse, but he’d be damned if he knew what to say.

“Gojyo, as much as this pains me to say, Sanzo is right. You need to get your shit together.”

Gojyo blinked.

“You and I both know you’ve been off since I replaced Banri. I understand that you swam with him for a long time and I understand adapting to a new team member is an adjustment, but it’s been four weeks…”

Gojyo fought the instinct to squirm. Damn, damn, damn.

“Goku is here, like it or not, and he _will_ be swimming fly at Nationals. If you can’t pull yourself together, I’ll be happy to take your place. Despite what you may think, I’ve only gotten stronger with age.”

And goddamn, if the crazy dragon didn’t mean it.

“No, man – I’m cool.” Gojyo pulled the back of his cap down in a nervous gesture. “I just … need some sleep.”

“Whatever it is that you need, Gojyo, I recommend you get it … fast.” Red eyes narrowed. “I’ll let you think on that while you finish up your last thousand.”

Aw, shit.

Gojyo pulled his goggles back on and hopped into the water. A thousand meters – 20 laps – wasn’t the worst punishment he had ever received, but damn, he didn’t want to spend that much time in his own head. Because he knew exactly what his fucking problem was and there was no way in hell he was going to be solving it anytime soon.

As in, never. No way in hell.

Things had been going just fine until that day a month ago when Gojyo, Hakkai and Sanzo had shown up for morning practice and neither Coach nor Banri been there. Banri had often been late, but it had been the first time in all their time swimming together that Coach hadn’t been there, riding their asses before the sun was even up. He’d finally shown a full 20 minutes late and announced that Banri, the fourth member of the medley team and the only decent butterflyer in the whole club, had gotten himself arrested the night before.

There they'd been, six weeks until Nationals and down one swimmer. Even had Banri been let off with just a warning, which he hadn’t, there is no way in hell Coach would have let him swim. There was going to be enough publicity as it was: a two youkai, one human, one halfbreed medley team didn’t show up at Nationals every day. There would be a fucking shitstorm in the press if it got out that one of the youkai had a criminal record.

Despite it appearing that their Olympic dreams had just been brought to an abrupt end, Coach had insisted they come back for afternoon practice. And when they had, Goku had been there with Coach, waiting for them.

Gojyo had, in all honesty, thought it was a joke. The kid had obviously just come from school – he had been wearing a gakuran, for god’s sake. He was also a shrimp, standing what had to be a full fifteen centimeters shorter than Sanzo. And although His High and Mightiness would never admit it out loud, Sanzo was on the small side as swimmers went. That made Goku a full-on chibi, which had made Coach’s decision to bring him on board seem pretty fucking stupid.

“Gentlemen, meet your new teammate.”

“Hey.” Goku had waved. “Nice to meetcha.”

In Gojyo’s ten years swimming under Coach, he’d never before seen the man smile. But at that point, he could have sworn he had seen a fleeting smirk pass over the dragon’s face.

There had been protestations. Many, many protestations. Surprisingly, it was Hakkai who had been the most vocal, although he’d had the good manners to save most of his diatribe for after Goku had disappeared into the locker room to change. When Goku had returned, Coach had told the three of them to shut the fuck up and told Goku to get in and swim a hundred fly.

The kid was good.

Scary good.

That first day he’d beaten Banri’s personal best – his race best – by almost half a second: with no warm-up and while wearing that crazy limiter that had to have weighed a ton. _And he hadn’t even been out of breath_. They’d never questioned Coach’s judgment after that.

The next few weeks had whizzed by in a blur of starts, laps, and finishes. Their practices were equal parts physical, technical, and mental, and their biggest hurdle was getting used to the nuances a new member brought to the team. They’d all been worried what would happen to the delicate balance they’d achieved over the past years. Banri had been there since the beginning, and even though Hakkai had openly disapproved of some of his “life choices,” the four of them had spent so much time together they practically completed each other’s sentences. Goku, on the other hand, had come in four weeks before Nationals as a complete unknown.

In retrospect, Gojyo realized that they’d really had nothing to worry about. The kid had hit stride almost as if he’d been meant to be their fourth. The monkey gave shit as good as he took it, and Hakkai’s mother hen tendencies didn’t seem to rub him the wrong way. He brushed Sanzo’s moodiness and insults off like he’d been hearing that kind of shit for years, and even the practices themselves seemed more relaxed – like some sort of tension they hadn’t even registered had suddenly vanished.

Yeah, things had been going just fine and dandy. Until the day two weeks ago when where Gojyo had completely and totally lost his shit.

Gojyo wasn’t prone to excessive self-reflection like some people he knew and he’d be damned if he was going to sit around analyzing something into the motherfucking ground (no offense to Hakkai, by the way). There were, however, a handful of moments that even someone as blatantly self-absorbed and occasionally delusional as Gojyo could easily recognize as experiences that had turned one’s world on edge.

The day Gojyo had seen what the kid’s crazy-ass limiter was hiding ranked high on that list.

It had been an assumption since the very beginning that if they were going to compete in the “mixed” category they were going to truly _be_ mixed. There had, of course, been other successful, high-profile teams that had included youkai, but they’d always worn limiters, as regulations had required. This would be the first year that two per team would be allowed to compete _au naturel_ , as it were, and they’d be fucking idiots not to take the edge it would give them.

Coach thought it would be so much of an edge that he’d insisted Hakkai and Goku begin practicing that way two weeks prior in order to get used to the impact it would have on their performances. And Goku hadn’t been pleased about that idea at all. In fact, he’d flat-out refused in the beginning, which Coach hadn't taken very well. Goku had then tried protesting. He’d tried bargaining. He’d even gone so far as a rather pathetic attempt to feign illness. Coach had finally gotten so pissed that he’d given Goku 10 seconds to take the limiter off before he came over and took it off for him. So Goku finally had.

It had become pretty quickly apparent that Goku’s diadem wasn’t some kind of punk kid’s fashion, any more than Hakkai’s three ear cuffs were an expression of an inner rebel. Gojyo’d been raised with the youkai side of his family, so he’d never thought the sudden shift from human to youkai appearance to be all that strange. Really, it was something as inconsequential as taking your shoes off: something you did to get comfortable when you came home. Occasionally, if someone was particularly strong or powerful, Gojyo would get a sense of their energy when they took off their limiter – a sort of buzz on the edge of his perception. With Hakkai, who required three limiters to fully dampen his power, it was something he physically felt more than sensed.

When the kid had finally removed his limiter, however, his power hit like a shock wave, rolling over his teammates in a wash of radiant heat and crackling, primal energy. It had quite literally blown Gojyo’s mind, and he knew he had just stood there, gaping like some kind of idiot. It wasn't that the transformation had been at all different from any other he had witnessed, but the sheer force of power it had unleashed was staggering. Without his limiter, Goku seemed more _there_ in a way Gojyo just couldn’t put his finger on.

And gods above, he was breathtaking. His compact form could have been chiseled from the earth itself, brimming with raw power. Even when Goku put the diadem back on at the end of practice, as he always did, Gojyo could see glimpses of the youkai in that harmless human form.

 _That_ was Gojyo’s problem.

For the past two weeks, Sha Gojyo, consummate ladies’ man, had been perving over a high school boy. Frankly, he was shocked that no one had picked up on it yet (although now that he thought about it, Coach probably knew). He hadn’t realized it at first, of course. At first, he’d _had_ to watch the kid closely. He was supposed to be getting a sense of Goku’s stroke – how much faster he’d become and how he himself would have adjust the timing of his start. Coach had been absolutely right that they’d need some time to get used to things. Hakkai had gotten better, sure – but Goku’s youkai form had power and reflexes that Hakkai couldn’t even dream of having. What Goku lacked in height, he made up for in musculature, flexibility, and a range of motion that put the three of them to shame. It was as if he’d been born to utilize his body in exactly this way.

That first day, Gojyo had stood on the blocks, mesmerized, and had missed the fucking start. Then he had missed it again, and again, and again. He’d tried to tell himself that he was used to Banri, that he was used to the kid being slower, being limited. Anything but the truth, which was that he couldn’t take his fucking eyes off of him.

Gojyo had never been this distracted in all his 24 years. He found himself thinking the craziest shit, like whether or not that marking on his stomach had texture, like Hakkai’s vines did. He thought about what Goku would smell like, if they both could get the smell of chlorine off their skin and out of their noses long enough to find out. He wondered what it would be like to grab hold of that long hair and bite the juncture of his shoulder and neck. He imagined what Goku’s cock would feel like deep in his throat and if he’d end up begging the kid to fuck him. He thought he probably would. He wondered what kind of expression crossed his face when he came, and if anyone had ever seen it before. It pissed him off when he thought that some idiot high school girl might have.

In the past two weeks, Gojyo had brought a grand total of one woman home with him. She had been young, athletic, and brunette. He’d showed her a good time, naturally, but as he had fucked her hard and fast, he’d imagined her voice lower and her moans of pleasure less … human. She’d wrapped her muscular legs around him as she came and that was what had pushed him over the edge. He’d tried to tell himself later he hadn’t seen the similarities and he hadn’t gotten his rocks off pretending he was fucking the monkey, but he knew that was a load of bullshit.

Yep, Gojyo was completely and totally fucked.

As he glided into his final turn, he saw Hakkai and Sanzo walking past, already dressed. Goku generally was in and out of the shower in three minutes, so he must have already left. If it hadn’t gotten so late, Gojyo might have considered getting in the whirlpool, but it had long since gotten dark and 5am was going to come mighty fucking early.

“Good work,” Coach threw him a towel as Gojyo pulled himself out of the pool. “I expect you to be back on point tomorrow.”

“Yeah.” Gojyo knew he didn’t sound very convincing, but what the fuck could he do? He wished a beer or ten weren’t completely out the question, but getting trashed this close to the race would only make them more pissed at him. In any other situation, he’d consider a nice long fuck, but that clearly hadn’t worked so well last time.

He made his way across deck and into the locker room. He’d get a shower, get the fuck out of there and try like hell to clear his head. As he shut the door behind him, he heard the sound of running water. No other teams were practicing tonight; Hakkai and Sanzo had already gone, so that left …

Motherfucker.

This was all he fucking needed. Not only was Goku still around, he was in the shower.

“Great, just great,” Gojyo grumbled to himself as he made his way to his locker. If he was lucky, Goku would be finishing up and with a little strategic procrastination, he could time it so he’d enter the shower just as the kid was leaving. Because he really, really didn’t need to be in close proximity to a naked, soapy Goku. If he was lucky – really lucky – the chimp would bolt out of the locker room like he usually did, leaving Gojyo blissfully alone and able to enjoy a quick wank. He’d kept junior down during practice through sheer force of will, but damned if he didn't need to take the edge off anyway.

The communal showers opened directly into the locker room, and as Gojyo walked by, he snuck a quick glance inside. As he’d suspected, Goku was indeed there, standing under a spray of water in the back corner of the shower. He was facing the wall, head bowed, one arm leaning against the wall and the other …

Holy … shit…

Gojyo’s jaw dropped as he stopped dead in his tracks. He apparently wasn’t the only one who fancied a wank. Goku was turned so that Gojyo couldn’t see everything, but from the motion of his arm and clenching of his ass, it was pretty fucking obvious what was going on.

The water from the shower was hitting Goku’s head with enough force to smooth out his normally unmanageable hair. Gojyo could see the gleam of the diadem in the fluorescent lights of the shower as his head lolled to the side just slightly. He half-mumbled an obscenity, shifting his weight slightly and leaning further into the wall as his breathing and motions sped up.

 _Fuck me, this is hot._

Gojyo’s dick throbbed. What tenuous control he’d had over it had been ripped to shreds the second he’d caught sight of Goku’s ass flexing in that obscene way, and he was now sporting what had to be the hardest dick the planet had ever seen. Had any blood been flowing to his brain at that moment, he would have turned around, thrown on some clothes and gotten the fuck out of there, but instead he just stood there with a raging hard-on, gaping as his teammate jacked himself off.

To Gojyo’s complete and utter horror, Goku shifted again, this time turning his head until he was looking over his shoulder straight at Gojyo, face flushed with heat and arousal. Goku stilled, for a moment just staring at him with lust-filled golden eyes. Gojyo’s mouth went dry.

“You just gonna stand there?”

Goku pumped his dick once, then twice.

Damn, if that wasn’t an invitation, he didn’t know what was. And despite the fact that he really should have apologized and beaten a hasty retreat, Gojyo wasn’t about to turn this one down. He was across the shower and on Goku almost before he realized it, and any reservations he may have had evaporated into the steam with the first feel of that gorgeous body pressed to his own. He was so worked up that he nearly came just at the feel of that heated wet skin against his.

Gojyo hadn’t thought about how this would go, exactly, but apparently Goku had, because it took him less than a second to drag Gojyo down to his level by the hair and shove his tongue into his mouth. The first taste of Goku’s mouth was everything he’d wanted. The kid kissed like he swam: all eagerness and pent-up power unleashed. He was trying his best to climb down Gojyo’s throat, and he was making a complete mess of it.

Gojyo found that to be pretty fucking hot. He wanted more, and he wanted it fast. He grabbed Goku’s ass and pulled him close enough to feel his exposed cock pressing against his thigh.

“Fuck,” Goku hissed into his mouth. He ground himself artlessly into the taller man as he fucked Gojyo’s mouth with his tongue. Damn, the kid was aggressive. And _strong_. And he felt so fucking good that Gojyo knew that he was going to last another minute, two tops, before he came right there on the spot. And he’d be damned if he was going to do it all over his swimsuit.

He let go of that delicious ass, tore himself away from Goku’s determined mouth and fumbled with the tie of his swimsuit. Fucking double knot …

Goku looked up at him with hooded eyes. “Are you gonna fuck me now?”

Gojyo stared, dumbfounded. Who the hell was this walking wet dream and what the fuck had he done with the monkey?

“I’ve been thinkin’ about it.”

Something about the look Goku was giving him went straight to his dick. He’d thought it impossible, but he actually got _harder_.

“I want you to … if you want.”

Shit, if Goku wanted to fuck, far be it from Sha Gojyo to deny him.

Swimsuit discarded, Gojyo was anxious to get back to business. Goku reached for his cock, agile fingers wrapping around his length and the pad of a callused thumb smearing a slick of moisture over the head. He brought the thumb to his mouth and licked.

“You taste good, Gojyo. Real good.”

Gojyo imagined what Goku’s mouth would look like filled with his cock. He was tempted … so very fucking tempted ... but he knew that would set him over the edge, and he wanted Goku’s ass. Now.

He pulled Goku to him again, hands splayed on his ass, exposing him to the warm air of the shower. He slipped a single wet finger inside and Goku pressed back hard against Gojyo’s hand, impaling himself.

Gojyo soon added a second finger and as he stretched the tight muscle, Goku made a guttural sound. “Nnng, Gojyo – more… ”

Fuck this shit. He pulled his fingers out, much to Goku’s protests. He was fucking Goku and he was doing it now.

“Against the wall.”

Goku practically scrambled over him to get in position and Gojyo took just a split second to spread a layer of slick soap over his cock before he sank himself balls deep in Goku’s ass.

It was indescribable. Molten heat and impossible tightness interwoven with that rush of electric sensation that was Goku’s power, even now not fully dampened. Gojyo didn’t even try to last; he knew it would be wasted effort. He slammed into him again and again as Goku recited a litany of demands for more, harder, faster.

Gojyo’s orgasm caught him by surprise. He managed to brace himself against the wall before shooting what had to have been the biggest load of his life as Goku came with a strangled shout. His knees buckled and he would have sunk to the ground had Goku not grabbed hold of him.

Thank the gods for small favors.

As his head cleared, his vision returned and he began to regain feeling in his extremities, Gojyo’s blood resumed its flow to his brain and he realized that he had in all likelihood just really fucked things up. Not a minor fuck-up, like “sorry Hakkai, I’ll use an ashtray next time.” And not even a major fuck-up, like “Sorry, Jien – I took your car for a joyride and wrecked it.” This was big-time, irreversible fuck-upery. This was a “I just fucked my still-in-high-school teammate in a public shower and still have my idiotic cock up his ass” fuck-up.

He was so screwed.

“Gojyo?”

Shit.

“Yeah?”

“That was _awesome._ ” You could hear the grin in Goku’s voice.

Oh. Maybe not so screwed.

“Yeah … it was.”

“Now that you got to fuck me, you think you can concentrate on the race?”

Nope, definitely screwed.

“Um. Yeah, I think so”

“Gojyo?”

“Yeah?”

“Can I fuck you next time?”

Yep, absolutely screwed.

  



End file.
